A Man with a Story
by Trial of Ash
Summary: Another side of the tale...Fay's POV.


**A Man with a Story**

(May be considered as a sequel to Falter?)

Everyone has a story that tells of the bittersweet moments in their life, some of unrequited love, some of happily ever after and some of an extraordinary ordinary life.

What's yours? Are you interested in sharing with me your life story? But before you start, let me tell you mine. And just so not to get you confused, I am not one of the living.

My life was interesting, albeit uneventful for the 26 years while I was alive. I consider myself a somewhat ordinary Joe blessed with extraordinary good looks and intelligence, and I have to say God is fair. Because with my outstanding exterior and a mind unequaled by my peers, I am also condemned to a short life to counterbalance whatever goodwill has been thrown my way since birth.

What goodwill you might ask? Well, I was also born into a fairly well-to-do family with loving parents and a very spirited sister who's insanely obsessed about fashion. Like all other girls I guess…

So you're asking what's with all the babbling about myself, what exactly is the tale I am about to narrate?

I once love a man and despite my light hearted narration, my story is by no means a carefree walk through the park…

I was an artist and I used to own a gallery in downtown Tokyo, and for a long while I thought art was the only thing I could ever love. Obviously, I was wrong. Humans are greedy by nature, so of course a gallery full of unanimated framed pieces of oil paintings would never satisfy me. I was swept off my feet by this gorgeous dark knight who stepped into my gallery one fine day.

I hear your unspoken question: "So what's the problem? Good looks, wealthy family and a good looking potential lover…?"

Humm, it is not so much of a problem I think, just one of life's little slices of irony and pain. I was terminally ill since I was sixteen and I was not given more then five years to live. I was stubborn though, I kept fighting and fighting and I lived for more then five years. I got haughty and thought that if I had already lived past the given time, I could definitely live for another and another and another…you get the picture right?

That was not to be.

I have to tell you…_this should remain a secret between us_…God has a sickening sense of humor.

Trust me on this one.

I fall in love with him…not at first sight, of course…how could someone as hip as me do something so cliché? I fall in love with him the fifth time I met him, even though I kept telling myself I shouldn't because of…you know…my _condition?_.

He was so adorable. He would visit the gallery once every month and come up with silly excuses to buy some exorbitant piece of art that he does not really need, unless of course he works or live in a hideously drab and grey place. He would also stay and hang around till the end of the day.

He wouldn't speak to me…you know…I think he was shy then. I thought he was some kind of freak at first, a very good looking and delicious freak but nevertheless, who still managed to disturb me.

Oh sorry, I am diverting again.

So on the fifth visit, he came with this beautiful bouquet of flowers…I know…such a romantic…but that's not why I fall in love with him.

I suffered from hey fever too by the way.

And the gorgeous fool spoke to me…

It's not a substantial reason…_and you there…stop sniggering_…but if you ever hear his voice, you would know what I mean. You could try making a prank call to his office; I think he's still there. He works all the time now. He is trying to forget about me I guess.

So everything was history from there.

He proved himself to be worthy of me. He was everything a dream lover could be. In short, I thought he was perfect. He is a trade broker, so he is busy most of the time and we meet whenever we could. He was so passionate, full of fire and such a dependable man but he was also full of insecurities and sometimes, just sometimes, I thought he thinks too much about himself. That was what prevented me from telling him the truth about myself, because I didn't trust that he will take the news well.

So I started the deceitful and condescending path that would mould the nature of our relationship.

And then…we both forgot how to be happy.

Three years, we spent three years being together loving each other as only strangers would. Till the last few moments of my life when I got too ill to be outside. I chose the cowardly path of running away. I selfishly left him alone to deal with all the confusion…left him alone to pick up the pieces by himself.

I wasn't feeling any good too but I didn't know what else to do either, so I let everything slide to the point of no return. I pretty much left the world with a callous attitude a dying man could conjure because there's nothing left to lose.

I left the people who loved me behind without a goodbye, without a care. All because I wallowed too much in self pity.

I guess he wasn't the only one who thinks only of himself.

Now, I am telling you this story because as I say God has a terrible sense of humor or, to better put it…a mysterious way of getting one to see the light.

One of his angels is offering me an opportunity to return to life…to be reborn in another word.

I was wondering why this trouble after the suffering we have gone through?

I am considering taking up the offer because I can't move on with this much regret still burdening me. It's just that that freaky red eye bastard would be a little too old for me by the time I grow up in my next life…

So basically, I am just asking for advice…as for your story, you can tell me the next time when I am back on earth again…that is _if…_


End file.
